What's In a Name?
by Merrick Mayfair
Summary: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet..." Shamelessly fluffy little one-shot set three years after the end of Of Oaths and Promises, Loki considers the importance of names and titles, and the most important name he has ever been given.


_Just a tiny little one-shot that came to me in my lunch break at work a while back. This takes place three years after the end of "Of Oaths and Promises"._

 _Warning - shameless fluff alert..._

 _As always, I don't have any claim on JKR's or Marvel's characters, and I do this solely for my own (and hopefully my reader's) entertainment._

 _Thank you for reading... enjoy. Merrick x_

* * *

 _ **What's in a name?**_

* * *

" _What's in a name, that which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."_

 _Romeo & Juliet, William Shakespeare_

He had gone by many names over the long centuries of his life

Silvertongue

Liesmith

Trickster

He had been god, prince, son, brother, lover and husband. Even briefly a King.

Had been Odinson, Laufeyson and worst of all No-One's Son...

He had taken pseudonyms for long stretches of time, wearing the skin, the name, and even occasionally the face and body of another. Most recently, that of a Professor - named for a little known 17th Century Midgardian Composer. Professor William Lawes of Hogwarts School.

The first time he heard his name on Hermione's lips, it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard in all of those long years

"Loki"

Nothing else

Just Loki

 _o~0~o_

Returning to Loki Odinson after his father's death had not been an easy decision. He was, after all, acknowledging himself as the son of the man that had wanted him dead.

There had been other choices – but in the end, sons were named for fathers in his world, and no matter how difficult and complicated their relationship had been – ultimately Odin had _been_ his father. Not Laufey, who had discarded him to death's embrace only hours after he drew his first breath, but Odin – who, no matter what followed, had given him his life that long ago day on Jotunheim, as certainly as if he had been his true blood father.

And most of all it was the badge of his brotherhood with Thor. From the moment Loki had knelt before his brother, hands between his, pledging him his life and allegiance in perpetuity before the whole court, he had once again been Odinson. Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson. Bonded not by blood, but by love, by loyalty and a shared history.

Besides – he knew how much it would have infuriated Odin. Which was always a bonus.

On Midgard he and Hermione were simply Mr and Mrs Odinson. Loki had been bemused by this at first, for the taking of a single name was not a practice among the Aesir. In time though, he came to love it, regarding it as a symbol – as with Thor – of their bond.

But now he had a new name. More important than any other name that he had held in all the centuries of his adult life.

One that – if he were to be honest with himself – he had never truly believed would be his...

 _o~0~o_

It had been a long day, thought Loki as he left the Council Chamber, rolling his shoulders to relieve the stiffness of far too many hours confined indoors. Behind him, he heard his brother groan as he stretched the kinks from his back. Neither of the Odinson brothers reacted well to prolonged periods of inactivity. Thor would, Loki suspected, be off to the training yard shortly, to work off his restless energy on whichever poor sap happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Loki however, had other intentions.

Shedding his formal clothing for simple trousers and tunic, he hurried back downstairs to the garden, following the path that led through to the open lawned areas.

He opened the large wooden gate quietly, and stood taking in the scene for a moment. Hermione was seated sedately on a seat in the shade of a tree, talking to Lucilla. A little way away, Jane was playing with Bjarte and Brandt. They were all completely unaware that they were being watched.

But someone had seen him.

A tiny scrap, all black curls and green eyes came hurtling across the grass, and into his waiting arms, her little face buried in his neck, grubby little hands clutching his shirt...

" _Daddy!"_

And nothing would ever sound sweeter...


End file.
